#(sorry im a little bit depresso today again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemonietrinket · 5 years ago

Text

Loved ||| WayV x Reader

Summary: Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, no matter how strong they are. And so when you come home from an awful day in the outside world, you are blessed to have several people come and pick you up again, setting you back on your feet. Genre: Angst, but then lots of Fluff to make up for it!! And humour too bc i think im funny Warning(s): Detailed description of hardcore crying, no mention of reasons why, just left as a very bad day Word Count: 12k how the hell- Theme Song: The Flower (feat. Maximilian Hecker) - Leo; Heart Flutter - W24 AN: Request from @idont-knowabrian, I’m sorry I am depresso and thus have to make it so depresso by extension. I hope it wasn’t too angsty for you, I added lots and lots of fluff after to make up for it!! Aaaaaannd sorry for the real big wait.

EDIT: Check out the updated version here!

~~~

It had taken all of your strength to not cry on the way home on the bus. There were too many people around for you to let the tears fall, but you’d bitten your lip so hard it bled and had held your breath until you were heaving. You tried your best, turning your head into the glass and staring into the darkness outside, praying that no one turned to look back at you or your reflection.

As soon as you got off at your stop, unable to utter a ‘thank you’ to the driver which made you feel even worse (if that were even possible) your defences began to break down.

Tears streamed down your face in the frozen evening air, slipping between your trembling lips and the salt tingling on the tip of your tongue. Your nose ran viciously because of the wind, which also mussed up your hair causing you even more frustration as you tried to hold it out of your face, only for it to cover eyes uncomfortably again.

Your voice seeped into your breath as you tried to remain silent, strained whines at the effort it took to not openly weep as you needed to, whilst you prayed endlessly that no one would pass you by on the street and see the mess you were in.

Fumbling with your keys, just inches from being inside and away from the world, almost sent you over the edge. The key had got caught in one of the keyrings and with your shivering fingers and blurry vision, it seemed the world was kicking you while you were down.

A sob rose in your throat, and you forced it down as best you could, until finally you crashed into the house, bags toppled by the oven. Slamming the backdoor behind you with a strength you didn’t realise you had left, you slipped to the floor and sobbed so hard no noise came from your body.

Your chest constricted upon itself, ribs very nearly bruising your lungs and heart, until you finally caught some air and howled.

You were ashamed of how you must have looked, sprawled on the kitchen floor, weeping hysterically, no doubt with a muddied skirt and torn tights and hands pressed into wet footprints upon the linoleum floor.

If you’d been told to write the worst day you could have, today took that itinerary and then dragged it through hell.

You didn’t have the energy to stand, even if the puddles from outside that your shoes had dragged inside were being soaked up by your shirt, barely tucked in beneath your belt anymore.

You wished that no one would see you in this state. But the world wasn’t particularly on your side.

You just about heard the footsteps outside, before the door opened. You didn’t bother to look up. You didn’t want to know who it was, you just wanted them to go away.

The sharp inhale that pricked at your ears only made you cry harder, the tears dripping from your cheeks and dappling the woollen sleeves over your arms.

The door closed, and the person knelt down beside your head.

The voice was hushed and filled with concern, “Y/N...!”

The man’s palms hovered above you, unsure of what the situation was and what to do about it.

It was Kun. Soft, caring, and extremely worried.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a broken cry was the only sound you could make.

“Y/N, are you...?! Ar you hurt?! Sick?!” he exclaimed, lightly brushing your hair from your face to try and understand what was wrong. “What’s wrong love? P-please, I don’t...”

You shook your head as best you could, and as soon as he felt the wet streams upon your cheeks he seemed to understand.

“Oh, love, oh...” he trailed off, unable to find the words. Seeing you like this hurt him beyond explanation. Slipping off his shoes as quickly as he could and discarding them by the door, he reached his arms under your shoulders. “Come on, love, let’s get you up.”

He scooped you up nearly effortlessly, as you became a rag doll in his hands, limp as you head span, your weeping having constricted most of the air out of you, abandoning you to feel the consequences.

Your feet dragged as the two of you slowly made your way through the house and up the stairs. You were barely putting in any effort, too ebbed with melancholy to do so, and you quickly realised Kun was practically carrying you, doing all the heavily lifting.

It almost made you break into fresh tears at the thought, when Kun murmured in your ear softly, “It’s ok, love, it’s going to be ok.”

It seemed that he was unfazed by your lack of input, continuing to hold you close as he whispered tiny instructions and words of support while helping you stumble into your bedroom.

He set you down on your bed with a gentle sigh, folding some of the clothes you’d discarded on the covers that morning and moving them out of the way. “There you go, we made it upstairs.”

He came back to push the hair from your face, wiping your eyes firmly with his hand as he held it at your cheeks. “Though those clothes need a wash, love, they’re a little bit mucky.”

You felt your eyes prickle up once again, as you choked on an apology. “I... it’s m-my... fault I—the floor, I’m such... such an—”

He shushed you, stroking your hair desperately, instantly kneeling to the floor so he was closer to your head height. “Love, sweetheart, it’s ok! It’s ok, it’s not your fault!”

He cursed at the carelessness of his words.

“The only thing is that we’ll need to get you out of these and into new ones, is what I mean, love,” he explained delicately, “I’ll go and get a new set out for you so you don’t have to do as much, and don’t worry about all the washing and drying, I’ll do all of that for you too.”

His kindness was tugging at your heart, smashing it to pieces in your vulnerable state, only to pull it all back together again. You didn’t feel worthy of his care, but on the other hand all you wanted was him to stay and never leave you.

He stood with a final rub of your temple, enquiring which drawer had your pyjamas in them.

You shivered as you tried to work up the energy to answer him, instead barely raising a finger to the drawer second from the top of the case.

It dropped to the mattress as soon as he nodded, pulling out the warmest set he could find and placing it at your side. “You going to be alright?”

You lifted your hand to try and pick them up, only to discover it was so heavy you couldn’t lift it. You whined in frustration, which led him to immediately kneel on the carpet again.

“What’s wrong, love, do you have the energy?” he asked. “Are you too tired?”

You nodded once, which was all you could really manage. If you’d been more awake you would have questioned where all your energy had gone to specifically, never having been this lethargic before, but—and quite fairly—that would be a question for later.

You didn’t want to cause Kun anymore stress, but once again he understood. “That’s alright, love. I’ll help you then, ok?”

He didn’t move until you explicitly agreed. In this case, it came out as another bow of the head, and another apology. “T... thank you... I’m s-so sorry, Kun...! I just-t...!”

“It’s ok, Angel, you don’t need to apologise. I’ve got you,” he assured, hushing your babbling and helping you to your feet again.

You went limp again at his words, leaning into his shoulder and focusing only on the warmth you found there. He swiftly unzipped your skirt and, after setting you back on the bed, retrieved it from your feet, throwing it surprisingly haphazardly over the back of your desk-chair.

Raising the hem of your shirt, now freed and hanging loose, he gently dipped his fingers under the seam and began to roll them down your hips and legs, lifting you slightly whenever necessary. The ripped tights were discarded just as the skirt was, whilst you pulled your legs up and together, desperately trying to retain heat. Your room had always been cold, though you hadn’t felt the full brunt of it until now.

As the goosebumps rose upon your skin, Kun returned. Instinctively, he placed a hand on one of your thighs, rubbing along to try and restore some heat, as his other hand unfolded the baggy trousers of your pyjamas.

Slipping them over your feet and up to your hips, he moved onto your blouse, undoing several buttons and pulling it over your head. Stroking some strands of hair that had become dishevelled out of your eyes, he shifted to retrieve the pyjama shirt and place it over your hunched torso.

Once your head had appeared from the collar, he sent you a small, sweet smile, guiding your arms into the sleeves and pulling it finally the rest of the way.

All done.

“Feel a little more comfortable?” His hand was at your temple again, fingers tracing tiny circles into the skin there.

You tried to pull your eyes up to meet his gaze, but finding yourself lolling, you settled on another nod.

“Do you want to go downstairs?” he asked.

Lethargically, you managed to reach your hand to his shoulder, attempting to haul yourself up as an affirmation. He rolled with your action, aiding you up again, and back down the stairs.

Eventually you were on the centre of the sofa, all the remotes beside you, and Kun was stood to head to the kitchen. “I’ll make you some food? Ramyun will be good right?” he hesitated. “Or grab you some blankets, anything you need.”

You hummed sadly, trying to draw your lips together to speak.

“Yes, love?” He was so patient.

“I...” you swallowed, hands tiredly lifting away from your body and towards him, as outstretched as you could manage, “w-want a h...hug...”

His features softened even further, if that were even possible, his eyes regarding you carefully as his lips curled into a smile.

Before he could answer—and make no joke, his answer would have been to take a seat beside you and instantly take you into his arms—there was a clatter, as the door opened. Several voices swarmed over one another, littered with giggles and whoops as they bickered in the falling darkness.

Kun’s head turned to the backdoor, and he nodded as he saw the face of one of the members through the doorway. “I think you can get a really big one, now,” he remarked, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

Not quite understanding the situation, you merely pouted, feeling the burn in your heart as your mind spiralled. He’d said no. He didn’t want to hug you. He didn’t like you, really. You were merely a—

“Angel, I can’t leave them in charge of cooking can I?” Kun explained with a chuckle, thumb brushing a single stroke across your cheek. “Please don’t be sad, love, I’ll hug you later I promise.”

“Promise?” you asserted.

“With my whole heart.”

His words threw your own through a loop.

Kun meanwhile called out to the others, “Welcome home! You’re late, but I’ll let it slide if you come here and help me.”

There was a couple of confused ‘eh’s until a few familiar faces came into the room, shrugging of their coats.

You almost broke into a fresh tears as you saw Yukhei’s bright, sunny smile drop from his face when he laid eyes on you.

“Y/N?!” he exclaimed, glancing at Kun for an explanation.

At the sound of his deepset shout, Sicheng leant out from behind the giant puppy’s shoulders to see what Yukhei was so upset about. He too went from quietly happy to extremely concerned at the sight of your reddened cheeks.

You quickly became very embarrassed. You hadn’t been cute crying, exactly, and you figured you looked like a dazed, tear-stained mess.

That was when Ten slipped past the two of them abruptly, running over to you before you could even cry in surprise.

“No no, no...!” he cooed, perching very carefully on the edge of the sofa, body turned completely towards you as he extended his hands to your face. He dabbed at your mottled cheeks rather frantically, the coolness of his fingers making you shiver, as they were chilled the winter, whilst your skin had been made hot by tension and stress.

“No, baby, are you ok? What’s wrong? What happened?” He glanced back at Kun who was heading through into the kitchen. “Kun, is it just my hands or is she running a fever?” Before you could answer he continued, eyes shining, “Are you hurt? Sick? Did someone hurt you?”

“They better not have hurt you!” Yukhei interjected, leaning over the back of the sofa. “If they did then you tell me their names, Y/N,” he said diligently, “I’ll make sure they never even look at you again I swear—!”

Sicheng rolled his eyes, a light scoff drifting from his lips as he patted Yukhei’s shoulder once, before heading round to the chair opposite you. “It’s ok, Ten, she’s not dying.”

He’d said it with a joking lilt an a gentle tone, but Ten’s mouth hung open as he shot him a look. “I know she’s not, but she’s upset and I’m not having that!”

“Neither will I!” Yukhei emphasised, folding his arms proudly.

“Yukhei, you couldn’t hurt anyone even if you tried,” Ten sassed, turning his full attention back to you. “Now, if my girl is not sick, and not physically hurt, then I know exactly what she needs, don’t I?”

As soon as he grinned at you, you couldn’t help but let the corners of your own lips lift. And, much like a chain reaction, as soon as he saw you brighten, even if only slightly, his smile grew into a beam.

“My girl wants hugs, doesn’t she?” he murmured, giddily tapping his finger against the tip of your nose.

You couldn’t avoid emitting a squeak at the contact—his fingers were too cold—but rationale had also left you in some parts, perhaps, as you nodded eagerly, dragging your arms up and throwing them out to welcome him in.

Ten slipped back on the sofa, pulling you into his chest protectively. He was careful to place his hands where they wouldn’t touch your skin, but also where you would know he was there, and so he nestled one into your waist and the other upon the back of your head.

Adjusting your position only slightly to lessen the pressure off the bridge of your nose, you settled you face in the nook of his neck, fingers laced in his shirt, as you took in the scent of his cologne. He must have several varieties but this one was easily your favourite—whatever it was. It was light, but deep and welcoming, with the openness of a spring day but the independence of a lucid dream, which was kind of how you felt held so close to his heart. You could feel it beating against your arm, seeping through your sleeves and sinking into your skin, through to your own heart, which skipped as soon as the thought of it all struck your conscious mind.

You very nearly forgot about the others around you, though as soon as you’d been dipped into the waters of serenity, you’d been pulled out by your own awareness.

Ten was stroking your hair gently, though his touch was shallow to avoid both knots and making you shiver. Kun was instructing Yukhei about something, words just out of reach for you to piece together, but no sooner than he’d finished, the boy had yelled, “group hug!” and had bounded around the sofa. You couldn’t see Sicheng, so had no idea what he was doing, but you heard a chuckle that sounded like his. And a second after you’d questioned the reasoning behind his amusement, you felt a weight crash behind you, as Yukhei joined you two on the couch.

Ten snapped up out of surprise, indicating he perhaps hadn’t seen in coming either, and with his hand leaving your head, you pressed yourself up slightly to try and get a better look at what happened.

It was no use however, because you were knocked back against Ten with a yelp from both of you, as Yukhei practically slammed his weight against your back.

Ten hauled you up as best he could so you weren’t stuck in a folded position but what you had ended up in nonetheless was still not overly comfortable. As you glanced at him you could see his lips wavering, formulating a sentence to most likely scold Yukhei with. But there was no need, as you felt a pair of much longer arms encircle you and pull you more upright, a chin coming to rest surprisingly neatly on your shoulder.

“Hi, Y/N!” Yukhei sang, tapering off into a giggle as he gave you a tiny squeeze.

You laughed bemusedly, relieved to be alive, but also welcoming the warmth from the other side. Yukhei was in fact much warmer, to the point he could be described as an actual radiator, and with him smushed against your back you felt extremely secure.

And, after a few seconds of his eyes evaluating the sight he could see but you could not, it seemed that Ten appeared to accept it eventually too. Even with you practically stolen from his arms, he laughed it off, identifying that he could be perfectly comfortable laying into you rather the other way round.

With roles reversed, Ten slipped a hand up to your collarbone, resting his head just above the other, and seeking the opportunity to wrap one of his legs over yours, which was jutting out over the side of the sofa.

Now you could see the room more clearly, and, with a tired laugh, you waved at Sicheng who was watching the borderline catastrophe with a confused but delighted grin on his features. There was a shade to his eyes though, something that you couldn’t quite place.

Peering over Ten’s head, you could see Kun leaning against the doorway, smiling proudly, as if the whole thing had been his doing. Though thinking back to Yukhei’s sudden but most likely inevitable surprise attack, it maybe had been.

“Hi...!” You waved at him too, leading him to chuckle.

“Hello,” he replied, “you look better already.” And with a brief scrunch of his nose, he was pushing himself off the wall’s edge and heading into the kitchen.

You pressed you chin into the crown of Ten’s head, smiling tightly as quiet settled over the room.

You loved all of them, you honestly did, and you would never do without their bickering and yelling and screeching laughter. But it was relieving to hear peace every once in a while, with the only sound being the sound of steadied breaths—two pairs of which had become more-or-less synonymous with your own.

“You sure you don’t want to join us, Chengie?” It was Yukhei that spoke. You could have bet a million with certainty that it would be him that broke the silence. Man could never stay quiet for long, which was often one of the most endearing parts about him, as it often led him to some extraordinary lengths to find something, anything to say, crafting absolutely wonderful results. A lot of what Yukhei had to say ended up becoming in-jokes for all eight of you in the house, and at least a quarter of them were from situations like these.

Unfortunately, this one didn’t spark much interest.

Sicheng shook is head once, voice neither amused nor melancholic, answering, “No. But thank you.”

“Oh, ok!” Yukhei’s response was bright as usual. “More space for us!” He punctuated his words with another, tighter squeeze, which made you cry out in mildly strained laughter.

“Yukhei!”

“Dear lord...” Ten sighed, rolling his body-weight to allow his voice to carry into the kitchen. “Kun! When are the kids getting back? Yukhei’s getting boisterous again!”

You poked Ten’s side, making him jump. He flicked his head away from your neck to look you in the eye, immediately flipping into a pout complete with puppy eyes. “Hey...! What was that for...!”

“Play nice Ten,” you asserted gently, reaching out to pull him back down. He’d left your torso open to the cold with his retreat and you missed him within seconds. Luckily he wasn’t in a snarky mood, or had accurately read the situation and had worked out it wouldn’t be a good idea to get mischievous and tease you, and so he came straight back down. Though his grip was a little firmer once he’d reestablished it, with one now warmer hand finding its place upon the bare skin below the hem of your shirt, shielding it from the chill of the room while simultaneously making your heart beat just that little bit quicker.

The kids, as Ten had dubbed them, arrived not long after, just as the delicious scent of Kun’s famous cooking began to fill the whole room to the brim. They stepped into a delightfully warm house, their faces reddened from the cold outside, and immediately were stripping themselves free of their coats, as the temperature difference made them feel too warm to cope.

Ten and Yukhei had finished their tussle over you, leaving you to rest in peace between the two of them. Sicheng had taken out his phone a while ago, ocassionally showing you funny memes and pictures he found. You didn’t really understand some of them, and he had to explain them, but you enjoyed it nonetheless, even if that same shadow tinted his eyes again as he did it.

Xiaojun regarded the sight of the three of you piled on the sofa with curiosity, to say the least, brows furrowing as he let the two behind him pass. Yangyang barely scraped a glance at you, until he came back and saw it properly, smirking. “What is this?”

“Y/N was feeling sad, so we had to come and cheer her up!” Yukhei explained, knocking his head into yours like a puppy.

“By... piling on the sofa?”

“What’s wrong Yangyang?” Ten snickered, before cooing, “Do you feel left out that I’m not babying you too?”

Yangyang narrowed his eyes defiantly at the elder, who merely stuck his tongue out.

“Yangyang, you can join us if you want,” you interrupted cleanly, the wobble in your voice long gone.

“Can I?!” Hendery called from behind the two stood in the walkway, slipping through to poke his head around Xiaojun where you could see him. His lips were curved into a tiny little smile, eyes wide and clear and glimmering in hope for a ‘yes’.

“Of course!” you replied, hand leaving Ten’s back and beckoning both Yangyang and Hendery over.

“I don’t think there’s any room,” Xiaojun remarked, exhaling amusedly, “you might have to take it in turns.”

At this, you felt both pairs of hands’ grips tighten, as if in reflex.

“But!” Yukhei stuttered in defence. “But I’m—”

Ten whined, “No, I’m comfy. You’ll have to drag me off yourself.”

Sicheng looked up from his phone. “Not sure that’s a wise idea, Ten, you’re the lightest one here.”

As Yangyang and Hendery glanced at one another, grins affirming before snapping back to begin stepping over to the smaller link in the chain, Kun declared from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready! Come get it! And someone can come and get Y/N’s for her—no complaining about that either, she’s had a tough day.”

But no one complained. In fact, it became more of a rush to get in the kitchen first, to collect their food because they were starving or because they wanted to be the one to grab your serving, you couldn’t tell.

Yukhei was swayed by food, which you had anticipated, and with a final, almost crushing squeeze, he slipped out from behind you, leaving you to adjust yourself to not fall over while supporting Ten upon your front.

This was because Ten was not affected as severely by the thought of dinner, and instead remained upon you, pressing himself against you as best he could.

“Can’t we stay here and eat dinner?” he mumbled into your shirt.

“I don’t think Kun would ever allow that.” You giggled. “Not after last time.”

Ten sighed, before shouting back, “Kun! Can Y/N eat her food on the sofa?!”

“No!” The man’s response was immediate. “Not after last time!”

“See,” you snorted, “told you.”

Ten rolled his eyes, sitting up reluctantly, then stretching his arms and back. “Fine. Come on, let’s go get dinner.”

Dinner was a ruckus, as usual. You cram eight people around a table and it will always be noisy, due to the sheer number of people. But then you make half of those people crackheads and the others happy to allow them to be crackheads Then you’ve got a table of chaos.

With the conversation flitting every few seconds, words bouncing from one side of the room to the other to a rhythm of laughter, many would probably have arranged to sit in their rooms to dine, but you would never dream of doing such a thing.

Hearing the banter, weekly in-jokes and teasing was necessary, as it always lifted your spirits. As long as you weren’t upset at the time they picked on you.

Luckily the previous cuddling had worked, and you were back to feeling ok, your problems not seeming so impossible anymore.

However, ‘ok’ was not good enough for the others, and you knew they wouldn’t leave you at just that. Besides, you had a promise to keep to the two youngest.

As soon as you spotted the natural lull in conversation, you jumped in, “Do you guys want to watch a film tonight?”

Your suggestion was met with a flourish of agreement, only that two faces also fell. One tried to hide it somewhat valiantly, no doubt to protect you from feeling bad. The other didn’t possess the finesse for this as such, and more-or-less openly sulked at the dining table. You looked to the two of them. “Ten? Yukhei?”

“SuperM,” Ten remarked, voice monotonous, “meeting on tour dates.”

You let out a small ‘ah’ in understanding. You attempted to look on the brighter side. “There’s always next week...!”

Yukhei nodded sadly, while Ten huffed earning him a side-eye from Kun.

“In my defence,” he began, “they’ve worked out all the dates that don’t clash for us. It’s 127 they’re having trouble with, and the managers there can’t seem to do basic maths, because they’ve confirmed two lots of dates that don’t actually work. It must be driving Taeyong mad over in Korea.”

“Why do you need to be there, then?” Yangyang asked.

“We don’t,” Yukhei emphasised.

Ten sighed. “No I think we do. Even if we’ve outlined our schedules a hundred times, we still need to be in the room while they set the dates, for legal reasons. It’s just that guy is driving me up the wall. He never lets us talk on these meetings, and I’m sick of subtly dropping hints to his boss about it.” He stood, offering to take the others’ empty bowls and plates. “Guess tonight won’t be very peaceful, but it’ll be worse if we don’t leave soon.” As he leant over the table to collect your bowl, he whispered, “I’ll be here pretty much all tomorrow though. You?”

You nodded, trying to still the beating of your heart picked up in tempo following the wink he sent you in response.

Yukhei collected the remaining utensils in one hand, giving everyone individually a big wave with the other.

“What are you going to do?” Xiaojun enquired. “About the ‘guy’, I mean?”

Ten shrugged. “Guess if he tries anything this time, he’ll face the pure wrath of this bad bitch.”

“Ten!” you cried in faux shock, a gasp quilting the air. “What have we said about swearing in front of the child!”

Laughter erupted as everyone synchronously looked at Yangyang, who was sending you an exaggerated scowling pout. “For the last time, I am not a child!”

“Oh yes that’s right, you’re not a child, Yangyang,” Kun interjected plainly, leading the table to hush as each person accepted his words as an instruction to quieten. Except everyone was wrong. Kun glanced at you with a suprisingly sly smile, and then at Ten, before looking Yangyang dead in the eye, and said, “You’re baby.”

There was a chorus of boisterous, teasing ‘OHHH!’s as Yangyang accepted his fate as ‘burned’.

You bid the two of them farewell, hearing them slip out of the backdoor, but you barely caught Kun as he seemed to follow them. You very nearly leapt into the kitchen, hearing a car door slam, eyes searching for the leader.

"Kun?”

The man jumped just outside, halting his motion to shut the door as you poked your head into sight. “Oh, Y/N. Is everything ok?”

You nodded, humming, though pulling your shirt further up to your chin to try and retain some heat in combat with the cold outside air. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, giving them a lift, so they don’t have to walk, since it’s cold out,” he sheepishly apologised, “I should have mentioned it, sorry. You can start the film without me, I don’t mind.”

“Oh, ok,” you mumbled. You had been about to say you’d make sure everyone waited for him, as you were aware the drive wouldn’t be long, but his words had stopped you in your tracks.

“I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N. I promise I won’t be long.”

You tried to lift your arms in time to request that hug he owed you, but the door had closed before he likely even saw you in the darkness of the kitchen.

There was a slosh of water that made your ears prick up, leading you to turn towards the sink. You’d barely noticed Xiaojun there, doing the washing up (as he’d been elected to by Kun as he left the table). Though it was no surprise, since he’d been practically silent the whole time. And he was doing it in the dark.

“You alright, Y/N?” he enquired, adding more hot water to the bowl.

“I could ask the same about you?” you glanced around the room, looking for the lightswitch. “Has the bulb gone again?”

“No, the light’s fine.”

“Oh, well...” You made your way over to the switch.

“Don’t turn it on,” he announced, tipping his head over his shoulder. The lights from the next room crystalised in his eyes, azure-gold and tracing a diamond upon his cheek. It illuminated the curve of his lips, as he spoke again, quieter this time, “Come here.”

You did what he asked, brushing his shoulder with yours as you came to his side. You tried to meet his gaze, looking up to his face and drawing across his features. You got distracted by the shine of his silver hair, tracing down his skin and curling round the shell of his ear so neatly. Plush lips parted as he spoke and you raised your eyes to meet his, only to have him turn away at the last second. You were left with no choice but to follow where he was looking.

“Look, out there,” he whispered, gently placing a plate at the bottom of the bowl.

You peered into the garden, dimly lit by the light from the living room dancing beyond you, next door’s garden light and nothing more—the sky starless and as dark and thick as ink. You couldn’t see anything, and it disheartened you to have to explain it to Xiaojun, who was clearly much more excited than you were.

“Jun? I can’t see anything,” you murmured, but he hushed you suddenly, leaving you to slam your lips shut, heart pinched.

After a few seconds he spoke again, voice barely above a whisper, “We have to be really quiet. And no sudden movements. She’ll appear very soon, I know she will.”

You frowned, glancing through the dark window, confronted by the hazy grass of the garden, and then your own musty reflection as your eyes switched focus. You couldn’t see much of Xiaojun in the glass, the shadow engulfing much of his mirrored-self. However, you could see one half of his face, shaded as if through clouds, his crown crudely lit like a halo from the light behind.

A sigh very nearly left your lips as you stole another glance at his real face, his brow furrowing while his eyes narrowed into the darkness outside, teeth ever-so-slightly teasing his bottom lip as he peacefully waited. It wasn’t fair how ethereal he was sometimes.

Suddenly he perked up, eyes widening, and leaning into you as he carefully pointed with a soap-sud painted finger into the black. “Look! There!”

You leant forward on the edge of the counter, eyes desperately scouring the garden until you spotted what he was waiting for.

A small bundle, tapered with jagged edges upon its top, snuffling through the shadowy green.

A tiny hedgehog, on the search for food.

As she came closer, you could just about make out the twitching of a nose, while she made a somewhat beeline for the fence on the left hand side of the garden. There you could see a weathered blue pet-bowl, filled with some food of sorts.

“There she is,” Xiaojun sighed, whispering a laugh sheepishly. “I was beginning to worry there for a bit, I’ll be honest.”

A wide smile rose to your face, overtaken by the purity of an animal that small shuffling through the cold to find food which had been placed in the back garden just for her.

“Did you...?”

“Yeah, the dog food was me,” he replied. “She only comes when it’s quiet here, which isn’t often but it does happen after dinner. As the others get quiet, retreating upstairs or sitting on their phones for a bit. That’s why I offer to do the work here, so I can check up on her.”

You couldn’t glance away from the hedgehog, especially when she finally reached the bowl and began to tuck in. Though it was in the shade and it was very hard to see anything besides the bowl by that point, made to stand out against the night by the brightness of its sides.

“She’ll eat it all no doubt, she didn’t come yesterday. Unless she has somewhere else and is just running rings around me,” he chuckled, picking up the plate.

“Why didn’t she come yesterday?” you asked, wrenching your eyes away to look at Xiaojun again.

The corners of his eyes rose as he wrinkled his nose briefly. “Yukhei’s euphoria last night?”

You stood confused for a second, trying to retrace your memory, until you finally struck gold. “Oh yea! We got a message from Jungwoo! I think it was everyone’s euphoria to be honest,” you sighed, “I’d been worried sick about him. No matter how many times anyone assured me he was ok, I knew I wouldn’t settle until I heard it from him himself.”

“It’s alright, I understand that. And I’m pretty sure the others do too.” As your eyes fell, remembering the anxiety you had about his condition, Xiaojun’s finally settled back on you. “You’re extremely kind Y/N, you almost care too much,” he said, “I know Jungwoo can’t wait to see you again, too.”

You finally met his gaze, letting a small smile rise to your lips as you did so. He was just so beautiful, you couldn’t actually look away even if by some bizarre curse you wanted to.

“Thank you, Junnie.”

“I mean it though, Y/N,” he insisted softly, “I worry sometimes you care too much about others, and though we appreciate it very much, I don’t...” His voice faltered, as if he’d spoken too much. “We don’t want you to hurt yourself in the process, and forget to care for yourself. We all love looking after you, but we also don’t want you to be hurt at all, if we can help it. So if something hurts you, let us know immediately, so we can support you... yeah?”

You nodded, swallowing as you felt your throat clench. Blinking quickly, you looked back into the garden, you spotted the hedgehog making her way back to the hedgerow.

At that moment, a voice rose from the living room. “Y/N! What film do you want to watch?”

Somewhat grateful for the distraction, you felt the urge to cry dissipate as you took another glance at Xiaojun. He hadn’t looked away from you this time, it seemed, but you didn’t focus upon that for your own sanity. “I’d better go,” you said, “thank you for showing me the hedgehog. She’s really cute, I’m glad you feed her.”

“No problem, I’ll let you do it tomorrow, if you have time and would like to?”

“That sounds great!” You sent him a grin, covering any sadness you had felt a few moments before. You lay your hand on his shoulder for a second before you passed, as a small farewell, making our way to the living room to go help Yangyang.

As you reached the archway, you turned round to ask one more thing. “Oh, Xiaojun?”

“Yes?” He finished washing a plate and placed it on the draining board, peering over his shoulder at you once again.

“Does she have a name? The hedgehog?”

In the shadows of the kitchen, you thought you saw him falter, in the silence, heard a stutter in his answer. “Actually, no, I didn’t think to do that. Maybe you could come up with one?”

You reasoned with the suggestion before nodding. “I’ll see what I can come up with. See you in a bit!”

After you left the room, however, he let out a sigh of relief. He was glad you’d fallen for that excuse, especially since it was far from the truth. The first thing he did, once he realised the hedgehog was a regular, was give her name. And since she was adorable, with her little nose and love for food, he decided to name her after the first adorable thing he thought of.

He hadn’t foreseen the issue that would occur if he showed her to the person of which he’d secretly named the hedgehog after.

As you spun round the door-frame, hands clapped against your cheeks, desperately willing them to cool down and lose their pinkish hue, Hendery spun round the corner and collided into you.

His sudden appearance made you jump, causing you to haphazardly step backwards and very nearly trip over a blanket draped half on the sofa and half on the floor.

Luckily Hendery’s reactions were faster than your falling, and with hands clasped at your shoulders he pulled you back into your centre of gravity. Holding you still there, watching you wobble until coming to rest, he exhaled in relief.

His face had been a picture, lips pursed into an ‘o’ of moderate horror as he’d almost knocked you to the ground, and then spread into a wide smile as he giggled sheepishly. His eyes were clear as glass, dark and glinting and rueful.

“Sorry Y/N!” he said, mischief lacing his words.

You scoffed, shaken and avoiding his clear stare. “Yeah, you will be!”

He laughed at your response, taking to your side. “We need to choose a film, what one do you want to watch?”

“I don’t...” you shrugged, “really know.” You were glad that you didn’t need to look at him now that he was at your side. You could feel his stare on you however, and it made you want to shiver.

He nodded, interlinking his arm with yours. “Shall we go have a look, my lady?”

Before you could let any words slip through your lips in bemused amusement, he pulled himself closer to you and then led you through to the corridor with the shelves stacked with movies.

Yangyang was already there, squinting up at the top row as you reached the rack, fingers running across each box like a small child reading their first book.

Hendery extended his free arm towards the shelving, bowing his head, “Your moving pictures, my lady.”

You snorted, taking in the sight of amass of films. They’d been ordered alphabetically by title, and you remember the day starkly that you’d sat down with Yukhei to organise them.

He wouldn’t have been your first choice to help order things, since his attention span normally lasted around that of a cocker spaniel with a new toy, but he’d been the only one in the house at the time, and he was the only one tall enough to reach the very top shelf regardless (you still didn’t understand why that top shelf had been installed and even being used, because if Yukhei wasn’t around—which did occur often due to his new schedules—then it was a real safety hazard to get a film down from there, seeing that no one else in the group managed to grow anywhere near 6″).

On this occasion though, he’d been uncharacteristically focused, listening to your instructions, and only making jokes about how short everyone else was a couple of times! He’d been a very big help, and it also proved useful in the sense that you weren’t the only one with a better idea of where all the movies were. Even if they were organised well, the two of you could still find them faster than the others usually could, simply due to the fact you could remember where you’d placed them on the shelves in the first place.

Kun had been extremely happy with the end result too, and Ten still didn’t believe you’d managed to get Yukhei to sit down and do it with you.

You did admonish the system you’d used now though. Perhaps taking the extra time to organise them into genres would have been better. After all, you rarely knew a specific movie you wanted to watch.

Scouring over the titles, you eventually straightened to join Yangyang in peering up at the very top row—the row of box-sets.

“What’re you looking at?” you asked Yangyang quizzically.

“Did we watch the final part of The Lord of the Rings?” he answered.

You and Hendery both nodded.

“Oh, well there goes that suggestion then,” he shifted down from tiptoe and came to lean against the table beside the shelving, sending you a sweet smile. “Y/N, what type of movie would you like?”

Eased, you smiled at him, glancing down at the films at the lower rungs. “I’m not sure, really. Nothing too heavy, and nothing that will make me cry.”

He hummed. “So, a comedy then?”

Hendery’s eyes went wide, a look of genuine fear playing on his features. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Our senses of humour in this house, when it comes to films can...” he paused, silk voice tentative, “...vary, a lot.”

You nodded in agreement. “Remember what happened over that Robin Hood film?” You shook your head very firmly. “Bad times, my dudes.”

Yangyang cocked is head to one side in thought, frowning at seemingly nothing. “Fair enough...” Suddenly, h perked up, showing a grin you knew well. “I’ve had an idea. What if we watch a really bad movie, one that’s so bad, it’s actually kind of good?”

You clicked your fingers, before shooting him finger-guns, “Now that is a good idea!”

The three of you turned towards the mountain of films. Hendery lent upon your shoulder, and once again you were convinced he wasn’t perhaps focused on the films.

“Ok... bad... films...” Yangyang murmured, pulling out a blue box to read its description on the back.

Meanwhile, you glanced over at Hendery, who was a lot closer than you had previously thought. You sent him a smile, pressing him back with a single finger before enquiring, “Do you have any ideas, Hendery?”

He smushed his lips together, as he usually did when he was thinking, something of which that always made your heart simper, and let his eyes wonder away from you and up to the penultimate top shelf.

“’Azure Shadow’?” he said, reaching up and grabbing the box. “I heard it was pretty bad—hey The CP Times gave it 4 stars!”

“My god,” you snickered, leaning over so your head almost brushed his, and peered at the back of the box, “what were they on?”

“No idea but maybe it’s not bad enough,” Yangyang remarked, earning a nod from the two of you, and leading Hendery to put it back on the shelf.

“What about ‘The Man of Blade’,” Yangyang measured, scoffing as he retrieved it, “this one doesn’t even show its ratings, it must be awful!”

You skipped over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder and leaning your head against it to see the description.

“’A man makes a wish to a genie’,” you began, the corners of your mouth twitching already as you attempted to keep your tone serious, “‘to become the most powerful man to ever live so he could face God in a one-to-one’—”

“I’m sorry what?” Hendery merely laughed.

You tried to hold it together. “—a-and restore not only his pride but his... his...”

“Oh no, what?”

Laughter bubbled in your throat as you forced the final sentence from your lips. “His valiant steed’s honour—yo, what the actual—?!”

Yangyang cackled as he began hastily opening the box. “It’s decided! We’re watching ‘The Man of Blade’! And we can all suffer together!”

Hendery wiped his eyes to free them from tears of laughter. “I’m sorry, but why on earth is that even here?! Who bought it?”

“It must be a present?” you insisted. “Surely! No one in this house would buy this in their right mind—”

“I bought it.”

Three heads simultaneously turned in the direction of the living room. There, standing in the archway, was Sicheng.

There was a moment of silence as you all stared at him, mouths agape and words faltering, until you exclaimed, “Chengie, no!”

“Look,” he projected, before the other two could add to the confusion, “it was supposed to be dumb gift for Ten, something that I could hide his actual present behind, and so I decided to hide it plain sight until his birthday.”

“Ohhh.”

“But, does that mean we can’t use it then?” Hendery questioned.

“Oh, yeah, damn,” Yangyang said, closing the box, “it’s ok Sicheng, we’ll put it back.”

“Actually,” you began, eyes flickering from each man, and finally resting on the box, “Ten isn’t here, so as long as no one tells…”

“We can still watch it!” Hendery finished, clapping his hands and motioning for the box. “Let’s start it up, I want to see the menu page!”

As the two fought over who got to put the disc in the player, you turned your attention to Sicheng.

His eyes, dark caramel and hidden from the light, were down-turned and avoiding your gaze. They seemed to graze across your cheeks instead, flickering up to your own only occasionally. You offered him a smile, small and soft, and then walked over to him. “Hey, thanks for the film! It sounds perfect for tonight.”

“It’s no problem, I’m curious to watch it too,” he grinned back, before easing you out of the way of the two bundles of energy that bounded through into the living room, “I really hope it’s as bad as it sounds.”

“Oh it’s got to be!” you cried, feeling warmth settle back into your system, slowly, but surely, as you laughed. “Come on, Chengie, help me get some snacks?”

“Of course.” He stepped backwards, letting you past to lead the way.

Back in the kitchen, you began to scavenge for all the food you could find, layering Sicheng’s arms with bags upon bags of snacks. You weren’t exactly paying attention to the number you’d piled, however, until you swung all the cupboards closed and aimed to place a final packet on top, only to find that you’d formed a tiny mountain, and Sicheng’s face was practically completely hidden.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Chengie, I didn’t notice how much…”

“It’s alright,” he answered brightly, peeking carefully round the precarious pile, “I got it!”

He stepped forward careful to request the final snack be crowned upon the summit above his eyeline, and with caution, you obliged, balancing it on top as best you could.

“Alright! Now all we have to do is get you into the living room without dropping them—are you sure you don’t want me to take half? It’s not hard at all for me to do so…!”

He turned so he could see you. “It’s ok, you’re already doing too much by organising this. I can carry a pile of snacks don’t worry! Just, warn me if I get too close to a chair.”

You nodded, peering over his shoulder to see his way. “I can do that. You ready?”

He hummed in affirmation, and the two of you began your slow, careful trundle into the living room.

With snacks arranged on the coffee table, you slumped on the sofa, taking care to mind your feet as you went—you didn’t want to knock all your hard work on the carpet, as then you would have to vacuum it all up and unless you had someone to make the pain more bearable, it wasn’t fun in the slightest.

You watched as Hendery emerged victorious and scampered over to the TV, fiddling with the dvd player. Yangyang, pouting from the sidelines, perked up once he realised that he now had a crucial advantage.

He bounded over to you, barely choosing a side and instead practically flung himself onto the sofa too. He threw his arms open to encase you as he went, and once his back hit the cushions, he pulled you into him.

You shrieked in surprise and glee, shuffling yourself round so you could rest your head more comfortably on his chest.

“There,” he murmured proudly, “comfy?”

“Very.” Your voice was muffled against his hoodie.

Hendery glanced back over his shoulder at the sight, and hurried himself. Sicheng meanwhile took a seat where he had been previously, spinning the chair around so he would be able to see the screen.

“Hey,” you called softly to him, causing him to swivel a bit further round to see you, “you sure you don’t want to come sit over here? It’s comfier than that desk chair.”

“But it is a spinny ch—” You hushed Yangyang before he could finish.

Sicheng smiled, the dim in his eyes growing as he shook his head. “No, it’s ok, I’m good here.”

“You sure?”

Your response was a nod, and the very gradual spin as he pushed himself back to face the TV subtly.

You tried not to take it personally, but you couldn’t hide the falter in your smile.

Yangyang couldn’t quite see it at his angle, but Hendery did, pouting at you as he came over.

“Y/N?”

“I’m ok, don’t worry!” you declared. “Just tired, is all.” Your response had been too fast, and you knew both Yangyang and Hendery had noticed—Hendery had quickly settled down beside you, inclining into your sloped body as he held your hand tightly, whilst Yangyang had shifted his weight to bring you just a little bit closer.

You did wonder if it was slightly out of something else, but you didn’t have long to consider that thought, with the film menu loading up and sending you all into a bout of horrified laughter.

“What even is that?!” Yangyang yelled above you.

“That is an actual, colourised depiction of hell,” you countered, lips twisted in terror as you sat up instinctively. It was as if the atrocity had immediately set off fight-or-flight responses of every single person in the room.

Hendery snapped his head over to you. “In the shape of a horse?!”

“It’s never going to leave my head,” Sicheng murmured. “There it is. Emblazoned into the insides of my skull. Set me free from this torment—”

“What’s going on?” Xiaojun had come through from the kitchen, drying his hands on a tea towel and striding through into the living room as if he’d been summoned.

“That!” Everyone simultaneously pointed at the TV, the single shot menu screen of an abominable CGI horse crowding the entire screen.

“What’s wr—mother of sweet jesus—”

“I know right!” Yangyang exclaimed. “It’s horrifying, I hate it!”

“It’s actually cursed,” Xiaojun stated, unable to draw his eyes away from the savagery of art he’d been presented with. “Obscene!”

Winwin’s voice was still low, but you could just about hear it over the whoops and cries of the others; “My sleep paralysis demon.”

“Is this what we’re watching?” Xiaojun asked, deep eyes wide and begging for the answer to be any cognate of ‘no’.

“Yep.” You grinned.

“This crime to humanity?”

“One hundred percent.”

Xiaojun stared at the screen, eyes alight with the tacky flames of the anathema displayed before him. Eventually he snapped out of his cursed gaze and headed back into the kitchen. “Dear lord—don’t start without me!”

Eventually, as the laughter died down, you settled back into Yangyang’s embrace, ushering Hendery to come closer too so you could have him near too. He looked over to you, feeling the tug on his hand, and with only a momentary pause to check if you were sure, he flopped down onto your stomach, exhaling happily with an arm stretched.

“You feel happier now, right Y/N?” Yangyang suddenly asked, voice low, and just below a whisper.

You were surprised, but nodded. “Yeah, I’m feeling much better than I did before. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” He cleared his throat, shifting his balance to support the extra wait Hendery brought to the table. “You’re certain we don’t need to enact special measures?”

You frowned, tilting your head up to come to look at his jaw, as he quickly looked back up to somewhere else in the room that seemingly wasn’t the TV for very rational reasons. You bemusedly asked about his supposed ‘special measures’, but won little response. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, before he glanced down at you, eyes flickering across each paradigm of your face with his lips pressed plush as he thought. He parted them eventually, ebbing with air and possible words, until you felt the rise of his chest as he inhaled and readied himself to speak.

Only then did Xiaojun enter the room and take the final spot at the end of the sofa, patting Hendery’s legs to get them to move.

“Ok, I’m back, we can start now!” he announced.

The ball of conversation was knocked from its ledge and rolled in a different direction to that you’d hoped.

“Who has the remotes?” Hendery piped up, feet replaced, but this time on top of Xiaojun’s legs. The elder of the two picked them off by flicking his soles.

“I do,” Sicheng replied, already frowning at the buttons. “Can someone get the lights?”

“Sure.” Yangyang stretched up behind him, hand awkwardly sliding up the wall as he sought for the switch. Eventually his fingers struck gold, and the room snapped dark.

And then the menu finally disappeared as the horror of a film began.

The movie was utter trash. But it lived up to expectations and it was absolutely hilarious. You’d spent the first hour shrieking with laughter, and then proceeded to tear each scene and every piece of dialogue apart as a five-piece. The entire film was cursed.

Hendery was slapping criticism on the plot left, right and centre to the pooint it made you wonder why he was here at all and not a movie critic. Meanwhile, Xiaojun just snorted at everything he said. The two had come to an unspoken truce, after squabbling over where Hendery could put his feet. They were now situated on Xiaojun’s thighs, and swinging every now and again.

You felt your heart burn at how adorable it was, though also suffered the pain of the jerks that Hendery made everyday he had the sole of his feet poked or tickled, which Xiaojun seemed to enjoy doing too much.

You stroked Hendery’s hair gently, lightly pressing his fringe out of his eyes where his head rested on your stomach, whilst you peered around to Sicheng to check if he was alright, having not heard a peep from him in half an hour or so.

What you found was that he seemed to be too engrossed in the movie. A grin was plastered on his face as the lights of the terrible CGI glowed in his irises and made him look like an evil mastermind in a fantasy movie of the same calibre. You hushed a chuckle behind your hand, as you leant back to turn your attention to Yangyang.

He’d been the forerunner of the jokes, cackling at every small thing and turning it into pure comedy gold for the rest of the people in the room, which you were very grateful for. The movie would have been brain-drivel without him.

He’d re-positioned himself slightly so you were higher up on his body, head much closer to be of an equal height to his. This way you could press your temple against his cheek, if you wanted. However, it was him that had his head nuzzled against you, his cheek resting in your hair.

He eventually quietened down as he grew more drowsy, instead taking in the scent of your hair, which only lulled him into more peace. With you in his arms he felt complete, in a way. As if he had a duty of sorts and when you were there he was completing it. But he wasn’t sure what this meant to him, and he didn’t want to think about it too much. A part of him deep down knew that it would cause some pain, somewhere along the line. And so he didn’t spare the thoughts a chance.

However, he couldn’t still the beating of his heart whenever you moved against him, whenever you looked to him and smiled.

As the credits rolled, there were several sighs of relief, but otherwise it was complete utter silence as the room tried to comprehend what you’d just witnessed.

You glanced over at everyone to see if they were just as confused as you were. Seeing you were in firm company in your bemusement, you announced, “The Oscars are clearly rigged for this not to win.”

Yangyang snorted. “Of course!”

“Best film ever! Y/N couldn’t make a better one even if she tried.”

Xiaojun flicked Hendery’s toe for that one.

“Oh of course, honey.” You leant over slightly, arms gently squeezing the boy in your lap, giving him a squeeze. “And you couldn’t make a worse one.”

Hendery seemed to take it as more of a compliment as he grinned, nose scrunching as he headbutted you softly. You tickled his sides briefly, seeking joy in the squeal that it earnt you, and let Xiaojun take the fall as he got kicked in the arm. You sent him an apologetic pout, not that you deep down meant it wholeheartedly.

“Ow!”

“Karma for all the headbutts I got in the stomach!” you asserted and Xiaojun shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s fair—”

It was Sicheng that interrupted. “Oh.” His voice was disappointed, and where his melancholy suddenly procured from confused you. He’d been so sunny during the movie.

You looked over to him. “Chengie?”

“The time,” he said, holding up his phone.

It was nearly midnight.

“How long was the movie?” Yangyang exclaimed.

Sicheng answered, “Longer than you’d expect.”

“Well over two hours?” Xiaojun suggested. “But that time included the credits.”

“Haven’t you guys got to be up like, stupid-early tomorrow?” you asked, voice timid, fearing the ‘yes’ that you knew would follow.

A hiss of irritation ricocheted across the room.

Xiaojun confirmed it for you. “Yeah, we do.”

“I don’t want to go...” Yangyang whined.

“I’m sorry but you gotta,” you encouraged sadly, “you need sleep.”

“And so do you,” Hendery added, kicking his legs off the sofa and stretching as he stood.

It was your day off tomorrow, though you couldn’t deny you were pretty tired. “I guess so.”

“Yeah, come on, otherwise Kun will be mad at us,” Xiaojun chuckled, “not sending you to bed at a responsible time, you know.”

You snickered, slowly shifting yourself out of Yangyang’s arms. His hands seemed resistant to the idea, catching on your shirt as you moved away.

Eventually though, he was freed from his constraints and ordered by you to head to his room. “Come on, Yangyang. You gotta go.”

He pouted at you, before reluctantly nodding his head. “Yeah, ok, I’m going.”

Hendery and Xiaojun followed, bidding you goodnight as they passed. You remained in the living room a bit after they went, opting to stretch out on the sofa instead of getting up.

“You need to head up too.” Sicheng’s voice was light and airy, like the shadows had engulfed it. You barely heard him.

“I know,” you assured just as quietly, “I’m just... taking my time.”

You could just about trace the lines of his smile in the dim light after he turned the TV off. His presence was faint, but what you could feel was warm and gentle.

He whispered something that this time you didn’t catch.

“Sicheng?”

“Don’t worry.” He sighed, getting to his feet. You heard the crinkling of wrappers and the clatter of bowls as he began to tidy up.

“Here, I’ll help,” you began.

But as you sat up, you felt an hand press firmly against your shoulder. “There’s no need, it’s ok.”

You frowned into the dark. He wasn’t looking at you, which was why his voice sounded distant. You could make out his silhouette, broad and proportioned as if he was drawn. He was like an artists unknown creation, stood in the background of their studio, overlooked by many but appreciated much more than any by the few that knew him.

You worked up the courage to enquire about the occurrences earlier. “Why wouldn’t you come over and sit with us? Like, during the movie or before.” Feeling intrusive, you hurriedly added: “I mean, I don’t mind of course, just... you know?”

That caused him to look at you, but he remained silent for the longest time. You were about to change the subject when he finally replied.

“I didn’t want to get in your way,” he cleared his throat, scooping up an unopened snack bag under an arm, “besides, you were already quite busy with the others, so... I didn’t want to overwhelm you with anything more.”

Your features softened at his words, a pang in your heart. “I appreciate that, Chengie. But please remember that you won’t overwhelm me or get in my way. I like hanging out with you just as much as the others.”

You could make out the smile on his face, small and sweet, before he ushered himself away towards the kitchen. “You need to head to bed, Y/N, you need some sleep.”

He was right, but you were convinced you weren’t going to leave until you got one thing.

You headed to the entrance into the kitchen and waited for Sicheng to come back. Upon his return, he almost bumped into you, but caught himself just in time. Your eyes met in the darkness, lit by the streetlamp from outside the window far behind you. His glimmered with the golden haze, as he wordlessly questioned why you were there.

“I know, I’m heading up I promise,” you answered for him. “But... can I have a hug first? Please?”

Lips pressed into a small ‘o’, he looked shocked by your request, before melting into another soft smile. “Of course.”

His hands brushed along the curves of your shoulders, as if to appear to find their way, and eventually travel down to wrap around you. The position wasn’t exactly the most conventional, as you found your arms bunched at his chest, but you made the most of it regardless.

He held you delicately, but firmly against him. It was reassuring, despite the lack of time you spent there pressed into his warmth, as you felt your breath slow, and your eyes close.

You didn’t want to let go, but Sicheng was more sensible than you, and drew himself away gradually.

“Come on,” he murmured, placing a thumb against your temple and massaging the skin there lightly in encouragement.

His palm barely touched your jaw, the contact was so brief it felt like the breath of a ghost, but it sent your heart-rate into a rapid drumbeat. You imagined he could hear it, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he merely continued, upping the tempo of his caress, and sending your thoughts into a spiral of sorts. You couldn’t work out what they were saying, but it was giddy to say the least. Eventually though, conscious reconnected to subconscious and allowed you to function again. You nodded, reluctantly leaving his touch that sparked your heart rate to spike, and began the long journey to your room, leaving Sicheng to finish up downstairs alone.

Something ebbed in your heart about it, but you didn’t know what it was, nor how to express it.

Eventually reaching your room, you left the door ajar as you clambered into bed, feeling a strange loss of peace.

You decided to watch Youtube for a while to calm yourself down a bit after... whatever had happened with Sicheng, and consequently ended up staying up long enough for the others to return.

That’s when it hit you, the reason why you’d been unable to settle. Or at least one of them.

Kun had promised to return quickly, but he had been gone all night. You wanted to ask about it, but it was late, and you were comfortable in your bed. Luckily, after a few minutes, once Ten and Yukhei had retired to their rooms, your prayers were answered as Kun knocked on your door, face peaking through the gap.

You stared up at him, eyes big and expectant with your lips pursed. He had explaining to do after all.

And he was aware of this fact, as the guilt was written over his face.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry,” he began, “can I come in?”

You pretended to think about it for a few moments, even though you both knew the answer. He waited though, and it was only when you gave him a ‘yes’ did he come inside.

He sidled over to your bed, eyes sweeping the shapes formed by your bed covers, to eventually perch on the side without accidentally sitting on your feet beneath the blankets.

“I’m sorry, I promised I would come back but the other two swore it wouldn’t be long, and it would be more rational to stay,” he explained, “but then it took longer than they thought, but I couldn’t risk coming home only to then head out again and... I don’t know why I listened to Yukhei about it to be honest, it’s not an overly rational thing to do.”

“Did Ten tell you to stay?”

He nodded.

“Well, I’ll let you off then,” you let the scowl fall from your face and giggled instead, “we know how persuasive he can be.”

Kun paused, eyes flitting to yours. “So you’re not mad?”

You scoffed. “Kun, I wasn’t even that mad to begin with, I promise! I can’t be mad at you for long anyhow. You’re just too—”

You’d let your mouth talk without your brain, and it suddenly occurred to you what you were saying. As your voice faltered, you weren’t sure what was supposed to follow. Kind? Sweet? Cute? Handsome?

Kun was waiting for you to finish, and unfortunately, you panicked a bit.

“Kun.”

He frowned bemusedly. “I’m too ‘Kun’?”

You nodded awkwardly, while you interrogated your own intelligence in your head. “...To be mad at for long, yes.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Well, I mean, I prefer that to you being mad at me.” He exhaled, clearly relieved. “Did you enjoy the film?”

“Oh it was awful!” you exclaimed. As you saw his eyes widen again, you laughed. “We enjoyed it so much.”

He was clearly very confused, and his lips wavered as he didn’t know how to respond.

You took some delight in his confusion, you couldn’t deny. “Well,” you propositioned coyly, “you’d understand if you’d been there.”

“I’m sorry!” he reiterated, eyes wide and searching yours.

“Ok, I’m sorry, I’ll stop now,” you laughed, though felt a little bit guilty and sighed, sending him a small sweet smile. Although it occurred to you that he still owed you. “But… there would be something that would make it all up to me—”

To your surprise, Kun interrupted you, already one step ahead, “I know. Here.” He shuffled along the bed so he was much closer to your body, arms held out for you.

You didn’t hesitate, much to his gratitude, and levered yourself up and straight into his embrace. His hands held your back firmly, gently pulling you even closer as he nestled his nose into your neck, mimicking your own positioning. Tender and tranquil, Kun seeped solace. While his fingers drew art upon your back, his head tipped into yours, his voice a deep murmur, “I’ve been waiting hours to do this.”

Your heart skipped a beat, you couldn’t even help it, though you shook it off. You’d been all over the place that day, emotionally, so of course you were going to be reacting all fuzzily over kindness. Well, that’s what you told yourself. Besides, he was just stating facts.

“Me too,” you finally answered, barely able to work up the effort to speak anymore. The tiredness swept over you suddenly, but you didn’t fight it. Your body was crying for sleep, and your mind had finally agreed that it was time to give into that small, tired voice.

You pulled yourself away gradually, hands coming to rest on his shoulders as you peered up at him. He held you at arms length, studying your face as you did his. You’d never noticed how rouge his lips were naturally tinted, how they curved into a smile as they opened to speak. Or how soft his cheeks were, as a long, slender dimple appeared as he did.

“You really need to sleep,” he said, “your eyes are constantly closing.”

You acknowledged his remarks with a lethargic nod, before shifting your weight once again to allow yourself to lie down under your covers.

Kun stood to allow you more space, letting you curl up to conserve warmth.

“You got everything you need?” Voice as light as silk, he leant over to catch your eyes behind the bundled blanket.

“Yeah.”

He nodded, straightening up and heading for the lamp on your bedside table. As his fingers flipped the switch, his brain stuttered. He’d wanted to do something for a very long time, and this was the perfect opportunity to do it. You’d already been desperate for a hug from him and him specifically. But it was if something was stopping him.

The lights went out, and he felt his feet moving by themselves towards leaving the room.

“Goodnight, Kun,” you called after him, watching his retreating silhouette in the light from the landing.

As he reached the door he held it open, head peering into the darkness to catch a final glimpse of your face in the dim light for the day. You already had your eyes closed, hair around you like a halo, temple exposed and waiting. You looked so adorable wrapped up and surrounded in warmth.

“Goodnight, love.”

And with that he left the room, leaving the door ajar, rubbing his own lips to make up for the contact he missed as his cowardice took over once again.

There would be another time. He prayed that there would be, and that it was him alone who got the opportunity.

But he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

~~~

AN: longest thing ive written and published wtf. It’s also unedited as of yet and with a piece this big it’s bound to have mistakes so I am very sorry for them and will get round to editing eventually i still need to update my masterlist oop

Also, all film names were randomly generated on a title generator. If they are actually the names of films then they weren’t intended to be.

Masterlist

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